


Snowed-In

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Casual Sex, F/M, Gas-N-Sip, weather related convenient inconveniences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 15:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: “You know how to play poker?” Meg asks.“Yes.”“Great, let’s play strip poker.”





	Snowed-In

“Goddamit.”

Meg slows down to even less than the legal speed limit, her shitty Geo slipping all over the street and she can barely see more than a few feet ahead of her car. Thick, white snow whips around the car, wind buffeting her and it’s not helping the whole staying in her lane thing. Fuck, she can’t even see the lane lines anymore.

She should have just left work early, even if meant getting a write-up for her shitty attendance.

Braving through the snow storm as she slows to around ten miles an hour, Meg starts to gradually feel fear that this all a very bad idea and she should get off the road. But there’s nowhere to get off to, and she’s not really keen on freezing to death in her p.o.s. car. Steadily, carefully, she inches forward until a bright sunshine logo is almost dead at her left side.

The gas-pump island lights of a Gas’N’Sip are like a lighthouse beacon, and Meg’s not sure if she’s actually pulling into the place or just bumping up over the curb, but she gets close to the front door and doesn’t care if she’s parked in a spot or not because there are no other cars here.

Shit, not even an employee’s car. But the whole place is lit up, maybe they park in the back.

Meg wrestles her door against the wind, and the snow is up past her ankles when she gets out. Trudging to the door, she’s relieved when it opens, but still grumpy because it’s a shitty fucking situation.

There’s no one in the small convenience store. Maybe they high-tailed it out of there when the storm came and forgot to lock up. Pulling out her cellphone, Meg checks and of course there’s no reception. She’s in the middle of fuckall nowhere on a country road between the industrial complex where she works and her apartment, stuck in a gas station store, and no-one’s here. Well, hey, hopefully they at least have the beer stocked, might be a fun night.

As she’s heading down an aisle, snagging a pack of beef jerky on the way to the coolers, a door to the back swings open. The shelves are shoulder-height, and everything in the tiny store is within sight. An employee wearing his blue vest comes in with a heavy box, setting it down on the counter, pulling jars of peanuts out.

“Hey,” Meg calls.

He jumps, knocking a jar to ground noisily but at least it doesn’t break.

“Uh. Hello. Can I help you find something?”

Meg makes her way back up the aisle towards the counters, “Yeah, my shitty car can’t get through this storm and I’ve got no cell reception, what about you?”

Squinting, he looks outside like he’s not sure if she actually has a car, like maybe she just popped into existence here like a witch. He pulls a phone out of his pocket, an honest to god flip phone, and checks it with a frown.

“No, I have no reception.”

“Do you guys have a landline or something?” Meg asks.

“Yes. Who are you going to call?”

“I don’t know,” Meg throws her hands up, “A tow guy or something?”

He walks to the glass doors, looking out at the storm.

“This storm has gotten very bad.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Who would even come out here?”

Groaning, Meg leans against the counter. She hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t know, I’m sure someone can make it through the storm, my car’s just a piece of shit. Hey, what do you drive?”

“I walk here.”

“Great, I’m going to get some food.”

Meg picks up a pack of Combos to go with her jerky, gets a Steel Reserve from the cooler, and pays the cashier with her credit car. At least he’s cute to look at, hair neatly combed to the side, wide blue eyes avoiding looking at her, and Meg can think of a few things to do to pass the storm.

-

He’s fucking stocking the shelves. In the middle of the storm, with a stranded, bored woman who keeps leaning over near him so her shirt falls open a bit.

And he’s stocking the shelves.

“This place open twenty-four-seven?”

“Yes,” he replies.

“When do you usually get off?”

“Five a.m.”

“Do the plow trucks usually come by then?”

“I’m not sure, I’m new here.”

“Great.”

Meg’s hopped up on the counter, and although he’s complained a few times, it’s the best seat in the house to watch him as he works. The jeans he’s got on look fucking great on his ass.

-

“Come on, Steve, I’m bored.”

Everything in the store is organized into tidy lines, the shelves full, and Meg’s flipped through a few of the cheap gossip magazines, and he’s still trying to avoid her by keeping busy.

There’s something fascinating about the full cigarette shelves, apparently. Steve keeps his back to her, shoulders tense.

“My name isn’t Steve.”

“That’s what your name patch says.”

Meg rolls her eyes, picking up a snickers from the front candy display, bracing her elbows on the counter so her tits practically fall out of her shirt as she eats with obscene suggestion.

“It’s someone else’s vest, I haven’t been here long enough to get my own.”

Meg ‘hms’, reaching out to snag the corner of the blue vest and tug not-Steve closer to her, licking sticky chocolate from the corner of her mouth.

“So, what’s your name?”

He squints at her, lips pursing. “Have you paid for that?”

-

Several hours in, the lights flicker and the power goes out.

“Shit.”

Castiel groans.

About all that she’s gotten out of this guy was his name. Meg hasn’t given up, but she has found a deck of cards among the wealth of goods in the shitty store that’s twenty square foot and not enough space to even pace in without making Castiel nervous so that he disappears into the back. So she’s playing solitaire on the counter, hips pushed back, watching him out of the corner of her eyes.

He straightens and looks up to the ceiling lights as they flicker off, as if it might just be an offending bulb and not the entire goddam store that’s just gone dark.

“Well, that’s fun.” Meg says.

The last time she looked through the glass front doors, the snow has managed to bank up about three foot high, and the inside of the glass has started to frost over. Without power, there’s no heat. And it’s dark enough Meg can’t see her own hand in front of her face.

“I think we have flashlights,” Castiel says.

Meg hears him run into something, it sounds like he’s knocked a display case over.

Patting her hand around the impulse-buy section of the front counter, Meg finds a lighter and flicks it on. She doesn’t see the blue vest over Cas’ broad shoulders anywhere, and as she rounds a corner she finds him wrestling with a pile of potato chips.

“Lighter, that’s, a good idea too.”

“Flashlights are better, but we’ve got to find them first.”

The small bic flame is only good to see a few feet, dimly, but at least it’s not pitch black. Castiel pushes himself up and leads around the corner of an aisle, finding emergency supplies and ripping into a flashlight package.

“Don’t you guys have like, an emergency kit in the break-room or something?” Meg asks.

Blinking, Castiel looks up at her, ruined packaging in his hand.

“I… hadn’t thought of that.”

The flashlight comes with it’s own batteries, probably the cheap ones that’ll run out in a few hours, but he gets it turned on and Meg let’s the little bic flicker out.

“I’ll pay for this.” Castiel nods dutifully, and the two of them retreat to the break-room.

-

Meg’s not really sure what the insulative properties of paper towels are - or how long the air will last in a break-room that’s kind of just a glorified closet - it’s not like they’ve got a complete seal, but she’s bored and it’s almost fun to pretend they’re in a survival movie or something. So they search the break-room, which she can cross in four steps. There’s a small folding table with two plastic folding chairs, and along the far wall is a line of counters that have a sink, mini fridge, and microwave.

They don’t find any extra flashlights, or candles, or basic emergency shit.

At least Meg brought her pack of cards back with her, and had the good forethought to snag a six pack too.

Settling down at the table, flashlight propped up like a lantern with it’s beam pointed towards the ceiling, Meg pops a beer and starts shuffling cards.

Cas is reviewing all the employee posters tacked to the wall, about safety and labor laws and sexual harassment. Like that’ll give him the answers what to do when he’s snowed in and the power’s out.

“Hey, come play some cards with me.”

Meg’s thinking strip poker.

“I’m still on the clock.” Castiel deadpans.

“Don’t you have like, an electronic time clock you swipe a badge in or something?”

He turns towards her, perplexed. “Yes?”

“Well if it’s electric, then it’s not working ‘cause the electricity is off, so you’re not on the clock.”

Sighing, he takes a seat across from her.

“You know how to play poker?” Meg asks.

“Yes.”

“Great, let’s play strip poker.”

“I thought the point of barricading ourselves in here was to conserve heat, and now you want to take your clothes off?”

“We can generate some body heat, baby.”

Meg smiles at him, and yeah, this is a lot more fun than she expected getting stranded to be.

“I,” his pretty eyes dart to the side, and he’s sitting rigidly in his chair, “I don’t know anything about you.”

Dealing out a hand for poker, Meg hums, “Let’s see, my favorite color is purple, my favorite food is pizza, and my favorite animal is snakes.”

She twists the cap off a beer and slides it over. It’s mildly surprising when Castiel drinks, draining half of it in one long gulp.

“Uh. My favorite food is peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, my favorite animal is guinea pigs, and I like all of the colors.”

“P.B. and J. huh? What kind of jelly?”

He smiles softly, and Meg must be getting somewhere because he can actually look her in the eyes now, and tells her, “Marmalade is one of my favorites, but I do like a little variety.”

-

Meg let him have the first few hands, taking off her jacket, her shoes, then her shirt. She was always one to lead by example. He’d removed his vest first, neatly folding it and setting it on the counter that was within arms reach in the tiny break-room. The flashlight made everything look eerie, sharper, the lines of his face and set of his eyes cast in weird angled shadows. He was still hot as fuck and Meg would be happy just to get his shirt off.

They played cards, and finished the beer, talked more about jam - apparently Cas like to make his by hand, when he had the supplies to. Bits of jewelry were discarded, they had a heated discussion about whether socks counted individually or as a pair, and the strangled noise that Cas made when Meg finally took off her bra was priceless.

She won another hand, and all he had left were the plain, white boxers he wore. He was nervous and tense, fingers fidgeting with the waistband. Meg stood and rounded the table, still wearing jeans - but she didn’t have any underwear on beneath, so she had to save those for last.

“You want some help with that?” She all but purred.

Bracing a hand on his shoulder, Meg leaned over him, messy hair tumbling over her shoulders and she watched as his eyes flicked down, up, down, up, to the side

“I, uh, I don’t usually, I don’t do this sort of thing.”

Sliding a leg across his lap, settling down on hard thighs, Meg smiled at him, curled her hands over his shoulders and brushed her thumbs in circles along the tense muscles.

“Are you gay?”

“No,” Castiel shook his head.

“Are you in a relationship?”

“No.”

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Nodding vigorously, wide eyed, he settled his hands on her hips. “Yes, please.”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Meg leaned closer, kissing him gently, trying to handle him like a spooked animal. Little at a time, draw him out.

Softly, she kissed him, hands sliding down the warm skin of his bare arms. Pulling back after a moment, Meg licked her lips and rocked her hips in his lap, waiting for him to make the next move. Kiss her back. Undo her jeans.

She didn’t expect for him to slide his hands under her ass, haul her up and lay her flat on the table as he surged up over her, cards scattering to the ground and flashlight knocked over. Spreading his hands around her hips, he stroked up, grip firm and sure as he dipped, kissed across her chest, closed his mouth around a nipple. Shoving forward, he spread her legs wide and Meg locked her heels behind his back as he ground against her, hard and suddenly rough, needy.

It left her head spinning, the swift one-eighty he pulled.

“Knew you had it in you, champ,” Meg gasped.

Squeezing one breast with the wide spread of his hand, he bit her nipple and tugged. Meg arched off the table, crying out surprised, and really turned on.

Cas pushed up on one hand, the other still kneading her breast, calloused fingertips circling the bud of a nipple.

“I want your phone number after this.”

Meg blinked, the stupefied one now. “Huh?”

“I want to see you again.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Cas practically ripped her jeans off, getting them unbuttoned then dragging them down her thighs, the rolling beam of the flashlight shifting over the angles of his body, skin flushed, dark trail of hair down to his boxers and the way they tented out was very promising.

Divested of her pants, Meg braced the balls of her feet on the edge of the wobbly, cheap table and spread her legs wide. If she were the praying type, she’d send one up that the table wouldn’t collapse underneath them.

Cas stared at her, biting his lip. It was flattering and all, but a girl had more needs than a museum piece.

“Get those off.” She told him.

Nodding, Cas pushed his boxers down, dick springing up against his belly and yeah, she definitely wanted his number. One time was not going to be enough.

“Condoms?” Cas asked.

“Shit, take the flashlight and grab some from the store.”

“I, that would be strange.”

“And fucking in the break-room isn’t?”

“Noted.”

Left in the darkness, Meg arched off the table and swept more cards from beneath her. Cas was back quickly, handing her the flashlight and Meg pointed it at his dick to watch him roll on the condom. She was going to be thinking about those hands for a while. Stretching her legs out, Meg squeezed them around his waist and pulled him closer, reaching up for him. Cas circled an arm under her back, hefted her up as he pushed inside and jack-hammered his hips, the table screeching over the floor as it juddered back.

Dropping the flashlight on the table, Meg gripped onto his arms, dragged her nails up to his shoulder, scratching down his back as he curled over her and buried his face between her tits. He bit and sucked and scraped the stubbled line of his jaw over sensitive skin and it left her swinging between soft pleasure and an edge of pain. It made her toes curl, pussy squeezing around his dick. Meg held on, yielded to the shove of his hips, the sharpness of his mouth, the heat of his skin, overwhelmed in the best way.

-

They shoved a few paper towels under the crack of the door afterward, curled up sticky-sweat skin to the linoleum floor, clothes draped over them in a pile. Meg wasn’t much of a cuddler, but with the heat off, yeah, the whole sharing body heat thing was completely practical.

Cas went all soft again, holding her lightly, combing his fingers through her hair and trailing them down the furrow of her spine.

“I want to take you out for a date.” He announced.

“Mm? We can just… fuck.”

“Do you like museums?”

“Not really.”

“What about movies.”

“I guess.”

“There’s an art expo in the park in two weeks.”

“Look, you don’t have to wine and dine me.”

“But I want to.”

Sighing as though put out, Meg pinched the soft give of Cas’ waist. “You’re a gentleman, huh?”

“Not as much as I’d like to think, apparently.”

“Just the right amount,” Meg said quietly, shifting closer, tucking her head into the crook of his shoulder. Maybe, just a pinch of gentleman wouldn’t be so bad, if she got his wild side too.


End file.
